


shine

by honooko



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-07
Updated: 2012-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-29 02:51:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/315022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honooko/pseuds/honooko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ohno knows Nino very well; that’s why he knows what he wants. Ohmiya get-together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	shine

**Author's Note:**

> For saturn_necklace in the 2009 je_holiday exchange.

Once upon a time, Ohno didn’t know Nino as well as he does now. Nino seemed like someone who would be difficult to figure out; he was talkative without actually giving anything away. He smiled without actually feeling happy (as far as Ohno could tell.) He noticed details about others, but ignored them without comment. Nino seemed, back then, to be complicated.

Now, Nino is an open book to Ohno’s eyes. His happiness, his pain, his love. Especially his love; Nino shines when he’s in love, like it’s filling him up so much his seams are popping open to let the feeling out. He can’t hide the softness in his voice when he’s thinking about that person. He can’t bite back the smile when that person is talking to him. Ohno thinks it’s one of the sweetest things about Nino: Nino loves truly, earnestly, devotedly.

It’s been years now, and Nino’s fallen in love a handful of times since Ohno met him. As far as Ohno can see, Nino’s never fallen _out_ of love, and sometimes it looks like that hurts him. If he could have helped, he would have, but Nino doesn’t talk about his problems and no one asks unless they’re really worried about him. They all worry about him, sometimes, but that’s what friends do, right? They worry about each other.

Ohno realized a few weeks ago that Nino was shining again, but in a new way. His voice was soft, just like always, but his eyes looked endlessly lonely. Distant and cold, almost frightened; Ohno wondered what kind of person Nino must have fallen for to put that look in his eyes. Maybe it was someone who had hurt him? Or maybe it was someone who _might_ hurt him, someday.

Hopefully Nino’s love would never come to that again. Ohno had seen Nino’s heart break—it was always a difficult thing to witness.

He almost asked about Nino’s new love: who is it? Why do you love them? Do they know? He almost asked if Nino was starting something that would only make him suffer in the end. But he didn’t ask, because Nino was beautiful in love, even when that beauty was gentle and warm with torn and jagged edges. And now, Nino is obviously in love.

Ohno wants Nino to be happy.

 

Another month has passed; Nino is still in love, but Ohno doesn’t think anything has changed, because Nino’s eyes still look lonely. If something had come of it, Nino’s love would seem fresh and reborn, instead of this flat and weary kind of thing. Ohno thinks that Nino’s love is a very powerful feeling that sucks up all his strength, all of his happiness, all of his heart into one place. When Nino’s love can’t breathe, Nino loses his air.

Ohno sits next to him on the couch. Nino smiles at him; the smile is a bit tight.

“No cards today?” Ohno asks, noticing Nino’s empty hands. Nino shakes his head—Ohno thinks Nino’s hair is growing out again and he wonders if Nino’s going to let it get long and fluffy like last year.

“Not today,” Nino says. His voice is so soft, and Ohno knows Nino is thinking about the person he loves. Nino flexes his fingers; his face doesn’t show it, but Ohno knows what it looks like when Nino’s hands hurt him.

“Do you want to play a game?” Ohno asks him. Sometimes Nino just needs to know someone cares about him; sometimes Nino just needs not to be alone with himself.

Nino’s smile is warmer, and he laughs a little. Ohno twists their fingers together, holding Nino’s hands tightly in his. _If hands were hearts,_ he thinks, but doesn’t let himself wish like that—hope like that. It’s not fair to either of them.

“I always like playing with you,” Nino says. Ohno doesn’t know why that statement hurts him, but the twinge in his chest doesn’t show on his face. Ohno has been practicing keeping his face still like this for a long, long time. He doesn’t want Nino to hurt like he does, after all.

 

“Have you noticed Nino—” Jun starts, but he stops. Aiba is nodding his head and Sho shakes his in a slightly resigned way. That’s the biggest problem with Nino’s love: everyone knows, but no one can help.

Ohno knows that Jun has talked with Nino about this sort of a thing a lot more than anyone would have guessed; Jun cares a lot more than people seem to give him credit for. Especially about Nino, if Ohno thinks about it, because Jun and Nino are kind of similar in the way that they love. Even if it hurts, even if it’s impossible, they still plow headlong into that kind of thing.

Aiba understands too, but it’s different because Aiba has never been rejected outright. Aiba is the kind of person who carries so much hope around him that you can’t refuse him. You look in his eyes and see the potential for something to grow, rather than the lack of anything that’s already there. Even if Aiba has been dumped, he always got the chance to try first. It’s a rare, lucky quality.

Sho picked Nino up after the Last Time. Nino doesn’t cry or get angry when things end—he can’t, because he’s still in love. He just spends too much time alone, thinking about things that used to be and things that won’t be anymore. So Sho picks him up and takes him drinking some place quiet, where Nino can talk or not talk until the wound isn’t quite so raw. Sho tells them all when Nino needs them, and they rise to the call, just like they would for any of the members.

That’s what it means, to be friends in Arashi.

“I hope this person is at least kind to him,” Ohno says, and everyone else looks at him quietly for a moment.

“I think he will be,” Aiba says at last.

 

Nino’s laugh is one of Ohno’s favorite things about him. Ohno has lots of favorite things about Nino, but his laugh is definitely near the top. He laughs and Ohno is reminded of a little kid who is infectiously happy. Nino’s laughing now, because Ohno saw a sliver of skin where Nino’s shirt rode up as he stretched. It was too tempting to ignore, and now Nino is curled up in a ball on the floor, trying to escape Ohno’s tickles.

Jun steps over them pointedly, but he doesn’t scold them. It’s hard to scold when Nino is laughing.

“Stop,” Nino gasps. “Stop!”

“You’re mine now,” Ohno declares, sitting on Nino and pinning his hands.

“Damn,” Nino says. “I guess I am.”

His expression is so odd, Ohno pauses for a moment. He’s seen a lot of Nino’s faces over the years, but this one is completely out of place. Underneath the flush and panting of giggle-borne exertion, Nino looks like he’s in pain. Ohno climbs off him, concerned.

“Sorry,” he says. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” Nino says. He still looks like he’s hurting—Ohno wonders why Nino would lie about this. He’s pretty sure Nino _is_ lying, anyway. He hates the idea of Nino lying to him, he really does. It makes him feel far away from Nino, somehow.

“Sorry,” he says again. Nino smiles, but it’s that soft-and-brittle smile again.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Nino says casually, but Ohno can’t help but wonder if Nino’s holding something back from him. He wonders why Nino would hold back in the first place.

He helps Nino stand and decides all he can do is make sure he’s always there, at Nino’s side, until Nino needs him. (And longer; so much longer—forever if only Nino lets him, if only Nino has a place in his life for Ohno years and years from now. Ohno hopes he will.) If his hand settled on Nino’s back bothers him, Nino doesn’t say anything.

“I’m hungry,” Ohno says. There’s nothing else to say—the moment has passed. Nino laughs and Ohno’s heart fills a little bit more.

 

Ohno reads the note Nino has scribbled in the margins of the lyric sheet:

 _Oh-chan; remember that night under the stars? Don’t you think this feels like that?_

There was no night under the stars; most of the nights (and days) Nino talks about have never happened, but Ohno plays along. It makes Nino smile, and he smiles even more when Sho or Jun complain about the jokes. (Sometimes Aiba joins in, and Ohno feels a bit conflicted about that—it’s a game he plays with _Nino_ , but Aiba doesn’t know what that means to him.)

 _I remember,_ Ohno writes back. _Nino’s eyes were beautiful then. ♥_

Ohno writes things he wants to say outloud: Nino is a good man, a good friend, a good person to feel this way about. Nino makes him feel loved even if Nino doesn’t love him. It’s enough for Ohno to be able to joke like this and not be sad.

A little bit lonely, but not sad.

“Gross,” Jun snorts as he leaves the recording studio. “Really, you two are gross.”

Ohno would point out to Jun that it’s all pretend, and therefore it can’t be _that_ gross, but part of him likes the idea of Jun believing it’s all real. Mostly because Ohno wants to believe that, too.

 

A few more months have passed, and Nino is still in love. In fact, he’s more in love than he was before—Ohno can tell from the way Nino looks at him. He’s shining more than ever before, but he’s also unspeakably sad. It’s lovely and heartbreaking to watch, but Ohno doesn’t know how to help him. Ohno doesn’t know if he _should_ help him. Nino never falls out of love, but Nino does love someone new, again. If this person hurting him pushes him away, maybe Nino will turn away on his own. Maybe he’ll see Ohno standing here (wishing, waiting, dreaming.)

Ohno holds Nino back from leaving the dressing room today. Their hands are linked, like a couple of school children walking home after class. But Ohno has spent all day seeing that _look_ on Nino’s face and he can’t just sit around and watch it anymore. He’s tired of watching Nino do this to himself over and over and not try to change (but it’s also something Ohno loves about him, so maybe he doesn’t want Nino to change.)

“Nino,” Ohno says and pulls him close. He holds Nino there like Nino is fragile and precious. Nino _is_ precious, to him. Nino is tense in his arms as though he’s going to push Ohno away, but slowly he relaxes. Ohno isn’t sure if Nino is accepting this, or just allowing it, but he’s not letting go.

“Why?” Nino asks. His voice is so tender when he says it.

“You need this,” Ohno says just as tender. He didn’t know his own voice could sound like that. Nino shifts, resting his head on Ohno’s shoulder.

“Are you sure?” Nino says into the space between them. “Because it kind of sounds like you’re the one who needs it.”

Ohno has spent so much time trying not to show it. But Nino is perceptive; Nino sees things. Ohno must have given himself away and Nino had just decided not to mention it, just like Aiba’s smoking and Sho’s dieting and Jun’s fear of himself.

“Okay,” Ohno says. He lets his voice soften on purpose, this time. “I need this.”

Nino’s arms wrap around his waist and hold him back, just as careful. Ohno inhales Nino’s scent and closes his eyes; he wants to remember this moment forever, because it will probably never happen again. But for now, for a few precious seconds, Nino is in his arms. For now, Nino is his. It thrills him and hurts him; if he died right here, right now, then he would never have to feel the pain of letting go.

But time moves forward, the moment ends, and Nino and Ohno go home alone without saying a word more.

 

 _Do you remember the afternoon you held me close?_ Nino writes.

 _I’ll never forget it,_ Ohno writes back with all his heart.

 

Ohno is pretty sure Nino has never loved anyone this much before. He’s also pretty sure no one has ever caused him this much internal conflict. Nino looks happy and sad and torn between two incredibly strong emotions and urges. Ohno can relate; he spends every day watching Nino and dreaming of something that will never (can never) happen.

“Please talk to him,” Sho says. Ohno wonders why Sho has asked him this; Sho knows how Ohno feels. He knows how hard this sort of conversation would be for Ohno to have with Nino. But he can’t say no; they both love Nino too much.

Ohno takes Nino out to dinner. The restaurant is small and private; it’s not expensive, but it’s not exactly cheap either, so obviously Ohno treats. Nino orders hamburger steak, and Ohno gets tonkatsu and udon.

“What’s the occasion?” Nino says, smiling across the table at him. Ohno smiles back; he can’t help it anymore. It’s a reflex—he mirrors Nino’s happy faces without even meaning to. At first he can’t think of an answer to Nino’s question, but after a second something occurs to him. A sudden surge of bravery drives him to say it.

“A date,” Ohno says. “So we can write about something else that’s true.”

Nino’s smile is wiped away. Several expressions flit across his face in quick succession so fast Ohno can only catch a few of them: surprise, uncertainty, anger, pain, then utter stillness. Nino is white even in the low lighting.

“I think it’s better if they stay pretend,” Nino says finally. “Don’t you?”

Ohno knows his face is showing everything in his heart. He’s disappointed and filled with regret, but he also knows that he wouldn’t take it back. Nino already knows how Ohno feels; it’s time for Nino to understand how much Ohno wants this.

Nino needs to know how much Ohno loves him, even if it hurts.

It _does_ hurt, because Nino loves someone with his entire being, and that person isn’t treating Nino the way Nino deserves. That person causes Nino so much suffering, and if it was Ohno instead, he would devote as much of himself as he has to give to making sure Nino never hurts again.

“No,” Ohno says in answer to Nino’s question. “I don’t.”

His heart feels like it’s being crushed under something dark and heavy; Nino stands, picking up his coat.

“I do,” he says. Ohno is struck by how much that statement seems to hurt Nino to say.

Nino leaves him there.

 

They haven’t talked for a while since then—a few conversations here and there about work, yes, but nothing deeper than that. Everyone is worried about them, and Ohno feels bad about that, but there’s nothing anyone can say to fix this.

Nino knows, now, that Ohno will always be here. He holds on to that thought with all his strength, praying that it’s enough to carry them through this. Nino is his best friend; Ohno doesn’t want to lose that.

The worst part of it all is that Nino is still in love, but it’s costing him more every day. Every day he looks like he’s slept a little less, the dark circles under his eyes darkening further. He looks like it’s hurting him unspeakable amounts just to face the world these days, and it kills Ohno to watch it happen. It kills him to be held at arm’s length by the person he loves most in the world.

He can’t do it anymore.

They’re finished working; Jun pats him on the shoulder, like a silent encouragement. Just knowing that Jun knows, that Jun _understands_ , fills Ohno with an incredibly warm feeling. Knowing that Jun approves of Ohno’s actions adds a bar of steel to his determination, and it’s that power that allows him to step in front of Nino as Nino tries to leave. Ohno closes the door, trapping Nino in the room with him.

“Ohno,” Nino says, “I’m leaving.”

“Please, just listen,” Ohno says.

“Ohno,” Nino interrupts him, but Ohno shakes his head. He needs to do this; he needs to _change_ this.

“I’m sorry,” Ohno says. “But you should understand why.”

“Don’t do this,” Nino begs him, every word absolutely dripping with desperation. He badly doesn’t want to hear the words Ohno wants to say, and it’s almost enough to stop him.

“I want this to be real,” Ohno says. “I want to have real memories with you. You hurt so much now; why not try with me instead? Aren’t you tired of hurting?”

Nino is strong; Ohno knows it from years of watching him. But Nino’s heart is always his weakness. He’s strong enough to take days, weeks, months, years of pain for the sake of love. He withstands the greatest suffering silently, because his heart is stronger than that. Ohno’s suggestion is met with anger; Nino steps closer, aggression in every line of his body.

“Don’t be stupid,” Nino says. “I’ll only hurt more that way.”

Ohno stares into Nino’s eyes. They are sparkling, shining. There is agony there and so much overwhelming love that it throws him off completely. Nino is looking at him like Ohno is the only thing holding him up, and looking at him like Ohno is the only thing crushing him this hard.

Nino’s eyes love Ohno more than they have ever loved anyone else in the world.

“It won’t,” Ohno promises. “I swear to you, it won’t.”

“Don’t you think I want to believe that?” Nino says. His soft, in-love voice barely crosses the distance between them. “But you can’t make those kinds of promises.”

“Why not?” Ohno asks. He means it.

“Because if it doesn’t work out, then you lied to me,” Nino says. “If you lied to me, I couldn’t stand it.”

Ohno takes Nino’s hand. Nino doesn’t fight him, but his face seems no less determined and angry. Ohno wants to wipe the expression away, but he knows he can’t. He can only try to change Nino’s mind.

“Then I promise to try,” Ohno says. “I promise to keep trying, over and over again.”

Nino seems swayed; the pain is slowly washing out of his eyes. Ohno won’t break their gaze; he’s too scared to. If he looks away, if he so much as blinks, Nino might not listen to him ever again. And slowly, Nino raises their linked hands, bringing them up to Ohno’s neck. Ohno lets go, and Nino cradles the back of Ohno’s neck. Their faces are so close now: Ohno can feel Nino’s breath. He can feel how much Nino wants this, and how much Nino has been trying to hold himself back. No wonder he was in so much pain: how could he ever hope to ignore this feeling?

“I don’t want your promises,” Nino says. His eyes barely hurt at all now. Instead, his shine has gotten stronger, and there is something else to fill the space. Something fragile and hopeful all at once.

He pulls Ohno in by his hold on Ohno’s neck. The kiss is something they have both been thinking about for far, far longer than either of them realized. Nino is careless with it and it’s awkward at first. But they accidentally find an alignment that communicates the feelings they want to share, and Ohno is pretty sure he could stand here kissing Nino like this forever if he had to. If he wants to.

And he does, so, so much.

“Sorry,” Nino says when they pull apart to breathe. “I can’t believe you with this.”

“You don’t have to,” Ohno pleads. “You just have to trust me.”

Nino opens his eyes. Ohno stops breathing.

“You know,” Nino says, smiling. “I think I can manage that.”

 

It’s been a year. It hasn’t been easy; Nino is so used to hiding his negative emotions that sometimes he packs things away that really should be talked about openly. And Ohno is bad at understanding what needs to be said; sometimes they misunderstand each other by a rather large margin. But each time, they work it out. They don’t let it stop them. Ohno gets to see Nino shine every single day, and Nino assures Ohno that he has a rather stupid-looking “newlywed” glow most of the time.

Nino is so beautiful when he’s in love with Ohno; Ohno never gets tired of it. He tells Nino (even if Nino still doesn’t quite believe him) that he never _will_ get tired of it.

“I wonder about that,” Nino says with a smile in between a rain of kisses.

Ohno knows Nino really well now, which is why he knows without a shadow of a doubt that his words will turn out to be 100% true.


End file.
